


Burn Out

by afishoutofwater (orphan_account)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Boy AU, F/F, M/M, Religious Themes, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2018-11-22 23:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/afishoutofwater
Summary: Avoid Eren Jaeger, that was all his grandfather told him to do. Bad news in tattoos, piercings, leather, ripped jeans, and cigarettes, Eren is the typical misunderstood bad boy with a heart of gold and Armin finds that avoiding his neighbour becomes increasingly difficult. Who would've guessed the pastor's grandson would be the type to fall for the bad boys?Are you there God, it's me Armin, and I think I need some help.





	1. Apple Trees

“There he is again,” Armin’s grandfather grouches from the sitting room window. He leans against an old cane, tipped with a golden eagle head. “Disgraceful.”

Armin cranes his neck, he’s fourteen at this point, to glance out the window where his grandfather is watching and sees his next door neighbour, Eren Jaeger, sitting on the fencing outside his home, cigarette in hand. There’s a plume of smoke that feathers around him and his numerous rings glitter on his fingers as he takes another drag of the nearly burnt out cigarette.

“Whatever you do, Armin, my boy, stay away from him.”

“But, why Pop?”

Armin’s grandfather turns to him and places a steady hand on Armin’s shoulder. “He will stray you from the path of God.”

The words stick to Armin like glue and for a good part of the year; Armin makes good on his unspoken promise to his grandfather and ignores everything Eren is, from his smoking, his lopsided grin, to his shaggy brunet hair that hangs over curious grey eyes.

And he does try in all honesty, but he’s drawn to Eren like Eve to the apple tree and it’s coincidentally under an apple tree where he and Eren have their first conversation.

Armin sits patiently, he’s fifteen and finding newness in the world around him, reading a book he found in the attic, boxed away and underneath a heavy chest – his grandfather must’ve hidden it for a reason but Armin’s too inquisitive to leave it alone.

“You’re Armin, right?” Eren asks as he walks up along the gravelled path. He kicks aside a few stones and takes a seat beside Armin.

The blond makes a point by fidgeting aside but Eren doesn’t comment. “I am.”

“My dad talks about you a lot. You’re the pastor’s grandson, right?”

“I am.”

Eren scratches his head awkwardly. “Um… So like, do you like church?”

Armin blinks behind his glasses. Does he like church? He’s never been asked that question before, not even by his own grandfather and he finds himself a little wordless. Does he like church? Or is he just accustomed to it?

“My dad wants to go to a sermon but like… I dunno, I don’t believe in that kinda stuff,” Eren continues, he leans against the tree stump and watches as cotton-soft clouds wisp across the orange sky.

“Like God?”

“Yeah. Like, I think Jesus was real but I don’t think he was the saviour, or whatever, y’know? …I’m not offending you with this, am I?”

Armin shakes his head and he laughs a little. It’s freeing, airy and it escapes without much thought. “No, I’m not offended. You can believe what you want. God will still love you regardless.”

A smile plays on Eren’s lips. “Really?”

“Of course. God loves all of his children.”

Eren’s face then darkens and there’s an unreadable sadness in those grey eyes. Eren becomes lost at sea when he stares at Armin and he finds himself pulled away by an invisible force within himself. “All of them.” It’s a statement than an answer and Armin sense the dubious nature to Eren’s tone but he doesn’t bring it up.

“You’re Eren, right?”

“Yeah… I guess your granddad’s said something about me, right?” Eren gives him a lopsided grin and Armin thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

He hides a smile behind his book. “Yeah… He’s told me to stay away from you.”

For the first time, Eren notes the distance Armin forcibly put between them. “Do you want to?”

Armin’s speechless because even though those words are stuck to him, drawn on with spoken ink, woven into his fibre of being, he can’t help but think he doesn’t really want to. Eren’s interesting, Eren’s beautiful, Eren’s intelligent.

“Not really, but I can’t disobey my grandfather.”

“I understand…” Eren gets up and stretches. “Wanna meet here again tomorrow? Under this apple tree?” _Our little secret…_

Armin once again hides a smile behind his book but nods his head once in assurance. Eren offers him that same lopsided grin and Armin feels himself melting internally. Just one grin from Eren has Armin questioning everything he ever really knew about how the world works. Eren turns the Earth upside down and Armin clings for dear life.

They meet up nearly every day, as the evening falls across their neighbourhood, beneath that apple tree. Armin brings books and he and Eren read them together, and sometimes Armin brings his grandfather’s bible and he reads gospels to Eren, just like his Sunday school teacher would when he was a kid.

It carries on for a long time until Armin’s grandfather finds out. One of his parishioners sees him sitting with Eren under a tree in a weird position that made it look like they were being a little _too_ comfortable, and his grandfather forbids Armin from seeing him ever again. He also speaks to Eren’s father, who visually disapproves of Armin’s grandfather but doesn’t hold objection - Armin’s grandfather is a man of God, and that is vital for the lifeblood in this town, he wouldn’t stand a chance to rebel.

And like a fleeting summer’s day, Armin’s time with Eren ends quickly. He thinks about Eren every day, and he watches him from his bedroom window some days, when he has a row with father and storms out of the house. He smokes a cigarette or two and glances at Armin’s house – he doesn’t know exactly where Armin’s bedroom is so he just looks at the general vicinity. There’s a hesitation in Eren’s actions and he throws a burnt out cigarette to the ground, stamping the butt out with his toes.

When Armin turns sixteen, he gets a part-time job at a new diner downtown. There he meets Ymir, a butch lesbian with a quirky can-do attitude, Christa a small femme girl who openly remarks about just how gay she really fucking is every time Ymir walks around, and Jean, a young bisexual man who seems to cling on to Armin a little too readily. They meld together like a well-oiled machine and Armin finds himself falling into the clique. He discovers he’s gay one day after kissing Jean on his break, and in fairness he had wanted to do it Eren a year ago but he didn’t have the guts to and he leaves wishing he had just waited. Jean kisses with dry, chapped lips and it leaves little to be desired but it leaves a weird fluttering in Armin’s stomach that girls just couldn’t do. When he’s at the café, he’s himself and Eren is in the forefront of his mind, he’s safe here, he can think about Eren here.

But, when he gets home, he lies. His grandfather asks him about his work friends and Armin _lies, lies, lies_. He lies about Ymir and Christa being a couple, and says they have boyfriends, he lies about Jean and says he has a girlfriend, and he lies about himself, saying he has no interest in that stuff just yet and it _works_.

It works until he sees Eren one day on the way to work. Clad fully in leather, ripped jeans, and Doc Martens as he pulls out a shiny new motorbike. He’s hot, _so hot_ , and Armin finds his knees quivering a little before turning to the sky and asking, _are you there God? It’s me, Armin_. The clouds break open and a little ray of sunshine gleams down on Eren whilst he brushes fingers through shaggy brunet hair.

“Oh, Armin,” Eren greets the blond after so long.

“Eren…” Armin’s hesitant, wondering if his grandfather is watching. “I can’t stay, I have work.”

“Funny, me too,” Eren says with that lopsided grin and _fucking fuck on a fuck, has he always looked this hot?_

_Sorry, God, for the profanity._

“It’s my first day,” Eren admits, nerves wracking as he brushes through his hair once more… Was that a piercing in his ear? Was that three piercings in his ear!?

“Oh! Have a good day, then!” Armin offers as a civil response, he wants to hurry away before he loses sense of everything because damn, Eren is everything he dreamt of and so much more. Who would’ve thought the pastor’s grandfather was the type to drool after the bad boys?

“Thanks, you too!” Eren replies back and he shoves his helmet on and swings one leg over the bike. He revs the engine and he’s off in a cloud of purple smoke and high pitched grinding. Armin makes his way to work, walking his usual way to the bus stop.

When he gets there, Christa and Ymir are hopping around in excitement whilst Jean sits at a booth, chewing on a plastic straw angrily.

“What’s going on?” Armin asks.

“The new guy’s here!” Christa exclaims and she squeals a little. “He’s handsome for a guy, and he’s totally your type!”

“My type?”

“Jean’s not keen on him,” Ymir explains when she gestures to him, seething in jealousy.

“I just don’t see why we need another person. The four of us are fine.”

Christa shakes a head with a giggle. “He’s jealous ‘cause he knows the girls won’t even look at him now.”

“Hey!”

“Who is this new guy?” Armin asks, beyond puzzled.

“Oh he’s-“ Christa turns to the staffroom and Armin’s heart leaps into his throat as Eren steps out in uniform, he’s well built, sturdy and the pastel shirt really leaves little the imagination on just how toned he is.

 _First day indeed_.

“Armin,” Eren says, noticing the blond at the front door.

“Eren…” Armin whispers and he wonders if God is playing a trick on him. This is hardly fair; to dangle the one person that Armin desperately craves over in front of him in _that uniform_.

His resolve is only so strong.

_Are you there God, it’s me Armin, and I just have to say one thing…_

_What the fuck?!_


	2. Troublemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avoiding Eren was about as easy as ABC for Armin, but now stuck with a difficult situation and caught between two stubborn boys, things begin to get interesting.
> 
> And, Armin finds himself praying to God a lot more than before.
> 
>  
> 
> Are you there God? It's me, Armin, and... I think I might be in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i changed the relationship tags! sorry there is some brief jean/armin in this. i hadn't planned for it to happen but i'm sorta letting this story just go wherever it wants and when something fits, it fits. plus, rivalry.
> 
> thanks so much for the response for the last chapter! i hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> also, some chapters are named after songs, like this one for example, which is named after troublemaker, the song by the hyuna/hyungseung's duo: troublemaker.

_Wait…_

It takes a moment to process entirely in Armin’s head as his jaw falls to the floor. He couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening right now, Eren was there, standing right there, in a work uniform and staring at Armin as if he were the angel Gabriel. There was fondness in those grey eyes, a sense of recognition that you feel when you find what has been lost to you. Eren’s face fills with warmth and he steps forward only slightly.

Ymir flicks between the two boys and a knowing grin grows across her lips. She gently places her hands on her girlfriend’s shoulders and moves her aside just as smoothly. Christa is puzzled as she tries to piece the situation together.

“Wait, so you two know each other?” Christa asks and the entire diner falls silent. Well, at least she worked it out herself. Christa wasn’t the dimmest bulb, but she did lack a fair amount of common sense due to a sheltered life, as well as an oblivious nature to everything but Ymir.

“Yeah,” Armin sighs heavily. How is he going to explain this to his grandfather? “We’re neighbours.”

“Next-door neighbours,” Eren clarifies as if it holds some weight in the conversation. Next-door neighbours doesn’t sound as intimate as Eren seems to think. But still, Armin does feel a little surprised at Eren’s insistence on their relationship. “And close friends.”

Well… Armin wouldn’t put it like that exactly… Yes, he and Eren spent a lot of time together a year ago and he would consider Eren a friend… But close friends? Armin never had such a thing.

 “Close friends?” Jean scoffs as he stands up and Eren bristles, sensing competition. “Armin’s never spoken about you.”

Eren’s shoulders sink a little bit and before he can retaliate, Ymir steps in. “Alright boys, time to stop your pissing contest. Armin, go get changed so we can open up.”

The blond does as he’s told by the shift manager and he brushes past Eren, not offering him any sense of attention and as the door swings shut he overhears Ymir tell Jean and Eren: “Don’t you dare think about fighting over Armin during open hours.”

Armin sinks to the floor, his heart rapid paced. How on Earth did this happen? How on Earth could this happen?

He’d been a good boy, he’d listened to his grandfather, he kept all of his burdens to himself, and he even ate his damn vegetables…

He clasps his hands together and he closes his eyes slowly.

_God, if you’re listening right now, I want to say I’m sorry for all the dirty thoughts I’ve had. I’m sorry for that time I lied to Pops about the frog. I’m sorry for all the times I met Eren in secret and wanted to kiss him, even though that’s not really a bad thing in hindsight…_

The door swings open again and Armin is shoved aside, toppling over onto the floor completely.

“Armin?” Eren questions. “What are you doing on the floor?”

Praying for my sanity, Armin wishes to reply but he remains calm and docile. “Oh, nothing…”

Eren doesn’t push it forward but he becomes bemused and then, much to Armin’s chagrin, he grins that lopsided grin. “You’re funny. Wanna hand?” And before Armin can say much of anything, Eren’s hand is outstretched and in his face.

He takes it and brushes his clothes down. “Thanks.”

“No problem…” Eren scratches his head, his nervous habit that makes Armin smile gently. “Um… I know your granddad made a big deal about us not seeing each oth-“

“Don’t worry about it, I won’t tell if you don’t,” Armin says and he holds a finger to lips. “Our little secret.”

Eren’s face visibly brightens and he pulls the blond into a hug. “I’ve missed you, Armin.”

It’s a short moment that lingers in Armin’s heart when he wraps his arms around Eren’s waist in return. “I missed you too, Eren.”

The brunet pulls away as quickly as he pushed in and with a genuine smile, he turns and walks out to the main diner. Armin grasps at his chest, clutching at his heart. Eren was dangerous, and not in the way the parishioner’s believed.

* * *

Work ticks by as customers trickle in. Men flirt with Christa and seem offended when she becomes disgusted by their advances before pointedly exaggerating when she checks Ymir out as she walks by. Ah, she’s using a lip bite this time, Armin notes with a smirk when he watches from the side.

His work shift carries on without interruption or harassment, he’s not the type for people to just hit on and whilst it feels a little like a drag on his self-esteem, he’s glad when Christa nearly breaks a jerk’s wrist when his hand decides to wander a little too southward.

Eren, on the other hand, is exactly as Christa guessed. A true hit with the ladies when he flashes that stupid, ugly, lopsided grin that has Armin gripping his pen a little too hard. His knuckles bleach white against his pale skin as he watches Eren flirt with a group of young girls, whilst taking their order.

Does he save that stupid grin for everyone?

Jealousy rises in his throat, it tastes sour and he finds it hard to focus on anything other than Eren, leaning against one of the booths as a girl scribbles down a phone number. Wow…

A hand comes up and around Armin’s waist and Jean’s whispering in his ear in a way that’s too intimate to miss, and Ymir, watching over the others as manager, doesn’t.

“Wanna come over later?” Jean asks and Armin feels heat run through his body. He wouldn’t exactly call him and Jean boyfriends, and he definitely wouldn’t say they were dating but yeah, the kissing may have gone a little further than he intended and sometimes he finds himself pressed into Jean’s sofa whilst the blond’s on top of him, kissing the hell out of him, straying fingers wandering under t-shirts and jeans… But would that make them boyfriends? Technically, yes, but Armin wasn’t ready to be set down by a label.

“Sure. I’ll just tell my grandfather I have study session.”

“Awesome.” Jean’s fingers wander, grazing over the curve of Armin’s backside before wandering away.

Ymir leans against the counter in amusement but she doesn’t miss the way Armin keeps his head down as he makes his way to hand over the table’s order. She makes a mental note to pull Jean aside to ask _just what the fuck?_

* * *

The shift ends as the sun begins to set over the city centre and Christa sits on one of the barstools, taking photos for her art class. One of the reasons she applied the work in the diner was the fact it sat on a hill overlooking Shiganshina during the prettiest times of the day. Another reason walked over to her and kissed her forehead.

“Wanna go home?” Ymir asks.

“Aren’t you locking up tonight?” Christa reminds her girlfriend and Ymir sighs.

“Christ… lemme go kick the boys out…”

“Ymir, what do you think of Eren?”

“I think he’s trouble, but in the good kind of way,” the brunette replies with a smirk. “The next few months are gonna be chaotic.” Ymir then kicks the door open and Jean screams. “C’mon ladies, out you come!”

The three retreat out of the staffroom, wearing their original clothing.

“Do you want a lift home, Armin?” Eren asks before realising that it might not be that good of an idea…

“Ah, maybe not,” Armin declines politely. If they were going to keep this work-thing a secret, Eren giving Armin lifts on his motorbike was probably not the best way to go about it.

“Right…”

“I’ll give you a lift, Armin,” Jean says, wrapping an arm around the blond’s shoulder.

“Yeah, okay… I’ll see you later, Eren,” Armin says with a smile. “Bye guys!”

“See ya!” Ymir and Christa respond in unison.

Eren watches as Jean opens the passenger door of his second-hand car for Armin and the blond climbs in, offering Jean a courteous smile. Eren then turns and offers Ymir and Christa a smile goodbye before putting his motorbike helmet on and heading to his beloved motorbike.

Jean’s car coughed and spluttered as it drove past and for a second, Eren and Armin shared a long gaze that was ripped away by the car veering a sharp left to head down the hill.

“I told you it would be interesting,” Ymir whispered as she presses a kiss to Christa’s cheek. “Tensions are high.”

“Just don’t get too involved,” Christa says before kissing Ymir fully on the lips.


	3. You Better Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try as he might, Armin is inevitably attracted to Eren in more ways than one, and Eren realises how dense he can really be. 
> 
>  
> 
> Are you there God, it's me Armin... this doesn't look good for me, does it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the response thus far! I hope you all enjoy this chapter too!
> 
> Thanks!

Armin’s pressed into Jean’s sofa again and he feels those lips run along his neck and _God, he understands that Jean’s not exactly experienced but does he have to be such a wet kisser?_ He feels a line of connected saliva when Jean pulls away, and Armin fights a disgusted shiver when they face each other.

“Are you okay? You’re not responding as much as you used to. Is something wrong? Is it that Jaeger kid?”

Armin snorts. “You say kid like he’s not your age.”

Jean smirks and he presses a kiss to Armin’s lips gently. _Oh, that’s different_. There’s a little feeling in this and Armin’s eyes flutter closed and he wraps his arms a little tighter around Jean’s neck. He lets out a little groan when Jean becomes rougher.

There’s a long moment where it’s just lips, tongues, and fingers twirling in hair, and then it’s broken when Jean’s hard-on rubs against Armin’s thigh and it sends electricity running through his veins. That was all him, Armin had done that, with his groaning and sighing and _fuck yes, Jean, a little more please…_

He feels lightheaded when Jean rubs against his solid thigh in instinct and there’s pure bliss written all over Jean’s face.

“S-sorry,” he whispers into Armin’s ear. “You just… _fuck_ …”

Armin’s breathless. He never really thought about going much further than just touching but his hand moves on its own, like a moth to a flame, and he’s cupping Jean’s erection with a gentle touch.

“ _Armin_.”

Shit, that was hot. Armin wants to hear it again and he rubs at it tentatively and he wants to laugh, it’s a ridiculous situation and he wonders for a split second how his grandfather would react if he had the slightest idea what his _precious_ grandson was up to.

“Mmm, Ar _min_ ,” Jean groans, bringing Armin back, and he’s pressing his teeth into the curve of Armin’s shoulder and the blond doesn’t stop to think about the repercussions of Jean’s actions and he just rubs a little harder and then he wonders what Eren sounds like-

Armin stops cold and pulls his arm up. “Sorry, I want to go home.”

Jean is confused and his eyes are unfocused when he pushes himself off of Armin, but he never says anything to push Armin past his comfort zone and offers him a lift home.

The car ride is silent and Armin is fighting to ignore the throbbing sensation in his own jeans and he can’t help but take sneaky glances at Jean. He doesn’t look mad but he doesn’t look pleased either and Armin feels sorry for him.

“Here,” Jean says, stopping at the field just a few paces from Armin’s home.

“Thanks, Jean,” Armin replies and he leans forward and kisses Jean squarely on the mouth. “Maybe next time we can finish you off.” His voice is lower than he expects it to be and Jean’s eyes widen, darken, and he’s pulling Armin in for another kiss.

 _Maybe next time Jean will be a better kisser too_ , Armin thinks as he lets the routine happen. He’s out of the car as soon as soon as he’s free and he waves Jean off with a smile. He tries to recollect himself as he makes his way home, freeing his hair from his loose ponytail and he checks to make sure his shirt is buttoned correctly and that nothing is left undone.

Eren’s just parking up his motorbike as Armin walks past and the blond takes a second to admire the way Eren pulls his helmet from his head, shaking his hair free and how when he climbs off the bike, his muscles flex and Armin thanks God for the invention of skinny, ripped jeans.

“Oh, Armin,” Eren says, noticing Armin as he turns on the spot. “You okay?”

“Ah I…” Armin’s lost for words and he tries not to slip up and say outright how he was gawking at the curve of Eren’s backside. “I am, yeah… Sorry, it’s this heat.”

Eren gives Armin a thin-lipped smile and the blond worries for a second if Eren knows he’s lying. It’s replaced with that stupid lopsided grin and Armin finds himself melting like ice-cream. “Did Jean just drop you off?” Eren asks.

“Ah yeah, he… er… yeah, he did.”

Eren’s still grinning but his eyebrows dip a little and it’s a pained expression held back by a familiar mask. “ _Cool_ … Um… Listen…”

“Armin!” Mr Arlert calls out, throwing his front door open. Armin rolls his eyes; does his grandfather always need to keep watch of the neighbourhood like that?

“Sorry…” Armin says almost inaudibly and he retreats to his own house and how he wishes to turn back to Eren, feeling sympathetic eyes on his back, but he knows if he looks back he’s going to be in a world of trouble. And not just with his grandfather.

“What did I tell you about that boy?” His grandfather starts as soon as the front door closes. Armin sighs heavily and steps out of the porch, closing the inner door behind him, he toes off his walking shoes.

“You said to stay away from him,” Armin repeats. “But he’s not a bad kid, Grandpa!”

Mr Arlert stops short and stares down at his young grandson. He pinches his nose bridge in frustration. “He’s not exactly good news either, Armin. My boy, you must understand, I’m looking out for you.”

“I know but…”

There’s a choking sound in the distance followed by a rev and a screech of motorbike tyres meeting the road beneath them and it doesn’t take a detective to work out that Eren’s riding free into the wind whilst Armin remains trapped within the confines of his grandfather’s home.

“Come have some tea, my boy.”

Armin follows his grandfather hesitantly to the kitchen where the kettle has just stopped boiling. He takes a seat and watches as his grandfather puts a cup of black tea in front of Armin along with a couple cookies and takes a seat with his own tea.

“Do you know what tomorrow is?” Mr Arlert says with a grave and pained expression.

 _It’s the 14 th_, Armin thinks, staring at the steaming cup of blackness, _the 14 th of July_.

 _Oh_.

“I’ve arranged for us to leave town for the weekend to visit their graves. Your Aunt Greta has arranged everything.”

 “Okay,” Armin’s reply is meek and feeble, but his grandfather hears it clearly. His grandfather gives him the softest smile he can muster and gets up, taking his tea cup with him to the front room.

He takes a moment to press a gentle hand on his grandson’s shoulder. It’s there he sees a blossoming red mark along his clavicle and sighs heavily.

He feels as if he’s forty once more and staring at the shocked and embarrassed faces of Armin’s parents upon telling him the news of their circumstance.

“It was an accident,” Armin’s mother had tried to reason.

“Father, I’m so sorry,” Armin’s father had said, arm wrapped around his beloved’s waist.

Mr Arlert was no fool, he knew what young people were like and all he could hope was that Armin was being safer than his parents had been.

* * *

Eren sits on his bike alone outside Shiganshina’s only art college, smoking nonchalantly. A few young girls, who look like students, watch him and giggle when he winks at them.

“What are you doing here?” A voice asks and Eren turns to see his older sister carrying her portfolio and a gloomy expression. Eren brightens the day and offers his sister a sunny grin and Mikasa can only roll her eyes behind her glasses. “Get out of here before you ruin my street cred.”

“What street cred?” Eren snorts and offers his sister a cigarette from his personal stash he keeps hidden in the breast pocket of his leather jacket. Mikasa takes it with wordless thanks and pokes it between her lips. Eren lights it for her. “I just came from work.”

“Is that why you smell of burger grease?” Mikasa teases, flicking some ash to the ground before taking a big drag on the cigarette. “God, you are deadly for keeping these around.”

“Then call me your Grim Reaper,” Eren laughs. “Anyway, you won’-“

“Mikasa!” Another voice, this disembodied for a long moment before a boy with a short mop of black hair and kind brown eyes runs over to the two. “Mikasa, I’m glad you’re still here. Do you have my copy of the assignment?”

“Yeah, it’s here,” Mikasa replies, flicking through her portfolio and producing a sheet of pink paper. “Oh, Marco, this is my annoying little brother, Eren. Eren, this is Marco, he’s a friend of mine.”

“Yo,” Eren offers as a greeting, holding a hand up in gesture.

“Hi…” Marco trails off, feeling uncomfortable in the atmosphere. “Well, anyway, thanks for this, I was gonna be buggered all summer without it.”

Mikasa laughs airily, unfolding her arms and standing straight, and Eren doesn’t miss the difference in her posture. “No worries, I would’ve just texted you anyway, Marco. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, see you!” And as quickly as he had interjected, Marco is gone.

“He seems like a wet blanket,” Eren comments.

“He’s cooler than you.”

“Impossible. Anyway, as I was about to say, you won’t believe who works at the diner.”

“Is it by any chance, _Armin Arlert_?” Mikasa asks sarcastically. “You’re a bit of an idiot, Eren, his grandfather told Dad about the diner - why else do you think he told you apply there?”

Eren is silent, embarrassed.

“Oh wow, you are a special kind of ignorant,” Mikasa laughs. “Anyway I have a meeting with some girl friends to get to, so go on home.”

“You’re ditching me already?”

Mikasa drops her cigarette to the ground. “I’m not ditching you if I was never with you to begin with. I told you, you ruin my street cred.” She stomps the butt with the toe of her Converse and with her unorthodox goodbye she makes her way down the street, away from the school and Eren.

Eren watches after his elder sister and makes a decision to return home to an empty residence and seeing if he can get Armin to sneak out of his proverbial prison. With a snicker he drops his own cigarette end to the ground and drives off, the wind free against his skin.

 _Maybe_ , he thinks, _I should attend church and then maybe Mr Arlert would see I’m really not as bad as he believes._


	4. Some Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connected beneath that apple tree, both Eren and Armin realise that the world without one another is doomed to be a boring one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter title and the previous chapter title are brought to you by red velvet!

It’s late into dusk and Armin sits in the field, away from his grandfather’s expectations and lectures. He sits under the famous apple tree where he carved his initials in with Eren just a year ago, and on his lap is the bible he read to Eren every time they met up.

The sky was a bashful shade of lilac, the sun winking at Armin as she dips beyond the horizon, promising to come back and visit tomorrow. Above the world is a deep blanket of navy darkness, dotted with stars burning thousands and thousands of lightyears away.

Armin whistles, all alone under this apple tree, and kicks his feet together to create a semblance of a rhythm. He doesn’t feel lonely particularly, the cool breeze swaying the closed sunflowers and the tall blades of dry grass. They talk to Armin, whisper to him.

“You alone?” A voice asks and Armin looks up to face Eren. He’s wearing a hoodie and a pair of tennis shorts.

“Aren’t you cold?”

Eren shrugs. “It’s so warm, how can I be cold?” He says. “Can I sit next to you?”

“Yeah,” Armin says, shifting aside and placing his bible to the side of him. “What’s up?”

“Ah nothing, let’s just sit here quietly for a few minutes,” Eren requests and he rests his head against Armin’s shoulder. “You’re shivering.”

Armin rubs at his exposed upper arms, knowing that wearing a t-shirt wasn’t the brightest idea. “Y-yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll warm up with you laying on me like that.”

“Y’know,” Eren chuckles. “I was gonna try and break you out of your house. See if you would sneak out with me.”

“Why?” Armin asks, surprised.

Eren smirks and he laughs under his breath. “I wanted to talk to you, I guess. You’re with that Jean guy, right?”

“Well, yes and no,” Armin replies honestly. He fiddles with his jeans’ pocket.

“Yes and no?” Eren sits back up and Armin pouts at the missing warmth. “What does that mean?”

“We’re not really dating… We’re just getting frustrations out,” Armin explains. “It’s nothing serious.”

“Have you… _You know_?” Eren questions, and he wiggles his eyebrows to cement his meaning. Armin blushes and looks away, abhorrent.

“No!”

Eren laughs a little too loudly and a hand comes up to clamp over his mouth. “Sorry,” he tries to say, but it comes out muffled. “To be honest, I’m glad you haven’t,” Eren confesses when Armin lets go. “All of my friends are doing it, so it’s nice to have one who isn’t… Is that weird?”

“A little bit,” Armin admits. “But, um, I guess I can understand.” He can’t really understand, having been brought up under a catholic household and being taught at a strict all-boys catholic school, but he could at least try.

Eren sighs and he smiles a little too happily. He lets down his guard and rests his head against Armin’s shoulder once more. “Just stay like this for a little while.”

Armin can feel his heart thundering in his ears and he knows Eren can hear it too. It’s too loud and it heats his skin up to a thousand degrees. Eren mumbles as he falls asleep and Armin almost ignites.

“Eren,” Armin whispers, wiggling his shoulder. “Eren, I have to go…”

“Stay,” Eren pleads and he clutches the front of Armin’s t-shirt. He pulls Armin down and their lips are almost touching.

Armin can feel everything, the grass tickles against his skin and he can feel the blood rush to his cheeks. He can feel the wind settle around them and he can feel the gentle touch of Eren’s skin through the fabric of his t-shirt.

There’s a soft exhale of hot air that fans across Armin’s lips and he takes a chance, a risk, and quickly feathers them across Eren’s, stealing a chaste but definite kiss.

The thrill catches up and is replaced with complete guilt. It overthrows the excitement and that blood drains from his face and a heavy stone settles in his stomach.

“Eren,” Armin says, a little more sternly this time. “Eren, let me go.”

“Stay,” Eren whines.

“Eren!” Armin barks and he jumps up from where he sits, taking his bible with him. Eren loses his balance and falls to his side. “Sorry, but…” He looks back over to where his home is, just hidden behind a few trees along the wood side trail.

“Oh, you want to go home,” Eren, scratches the back of head sheepishly. “Sorry, I guess I was being a bit selfish there.”

_Not as much as me_ , Armin thinks guiltily. He can still feel the hot air from Eren’s mouth brush across his soft lips and he wonders if Eren felt it to. It’s like what Father Smith had said; the lips are the most sensitive part of the human body.

Eren stands up and stretches, his t-shirt riding up and Armin is so glad that night is arriving, darkness is falling, as his cheeks heat up and he finds himself gazing at Eren’s flat, undefined abdomen and oh… my god… there’s a small triangular patch of hair that points downwards and Armin follows…

_Bless me, Lord!_

Armin averts his eyes as Eren releases his stretch with a groan.

“Man, it’s such a nice night too,” he comments and he shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets. The two walk along the woodland trail to where their houses lie but Eren stops Armin just before they meet their houses. “Listen, I’m gonna be honest, like I was at the diner. I miss you, Armin, I want to see you more often.”

Armin feels his knees buckles, the way Eren stares at him is so earnest and desperate and he would give anything to give him a proper, guilt-free kiss.

“I want to see you too, Eren.”

“Cool, shall we see each other tomorrow? After work. Under that apple tree.”

Armin bites at his lower lip and is ready to say _yes, yes, yes_! But then he remembers he arranged “study sessions” with Jean tomorrow as well…

“I don’t know… I have… plans, tomorrow.”

“With that Kirstein guy,” Eren visibly deflates as he affirms his worst fears. “Alright, after that.”

“Okay, I’ll… I’ll come find you.”

Eren only gives Armin a sweet smile and watches as his blond friend walks up and disappears into his own house. _Not if I come find you first._

* * *

The next day they’re sat under the same apple tree, watching the sun set. Eren can see, out of his periphery, the purpled bruising on Armin’s neck and it leaves something bitter in his mouth.

Maybe he just ate a bug without realising? He swallows thickly, feeling nauseous at the thought.

Armin stretches slightly, sighing as his eyes slowly close whilst the sun dips behind the trees. He leans back against the trunk of the apple tree, his head rocking back and forth, threatening to fall.

Eren watches him closely this time, instead of staring from the corners of his eyes, and reaches up to press his fingers against Armin’s soft cheek. He gently pushes Armin’s head so it lands on his shoulder. His breath comes out shallow and sweet, falling into the throes of sleep and Eren finds himself wondering why exactly he had done that.

He feels jealousy bubble in his stomach, there’s another bruise on Armin’s pectoral, exposed with his position. He can’t figure out where the jealousy lies, all he knows it’s there and it’s poisoning his thoughts.

“Hmm, Jean,” Armin whispers in his sleep and Eren feels every nerve in his body stand on end, alert and aggravated. “Jean...” He giggles and Eren feels himself getting hot.

“Armin, you…” Eren’s words are lost on the breezeless night as Armin cuddles into his shoulder, warm, soft lips pressing into the crook of his neck. He feels the reaction, the sensation of Armin’s lips on his skin, run through his veins and nerves and he crosses his legs slightly, willing for it to leave.

It’s just the sensation, Eren tells himself and when Armin brushes his lips over a sensitive spot he didn’t know he had, he’s bristled and turned on.

He imagines those lips, those devious lips, running over Jean’s neck and the jealousy bubbles ferociously and the arousal fades away.

_It’s nothing serious_ , Armin’s voice echoes in his head. _It’s nothing serious, we’re just **this** close to banging_.

It leaves a chill running down his spine and he stares down at Armin, his blond hair falling in front of his face, blocking off any view of his features and Eren worships the luck that runs through him to be friends with someone who might just be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He worships the ground Armin sits on and when he threads his fingers through Armin’s curled ones, he worships the heat of his skin.

And it’s there, under the apple tree where Eren, without realising, begins to teeter on the edge of falling, and all he needs is a gentle push.


	5. Choking and Roaring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mikasa is omniscient, Eren is oblivious, and Armin embraces his rebellious side.
> 
> Oh, and Armin learns something about Eren that might just change everything between them.

“Whoa,” Mikasa says as Eren fumbles into the kitchen on a Saturday morning, dressed in an old t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. She peeks over perched glasses and closes her laptop to fully take in the sight of her young brother. “You look like shit.”

“Yeah,” Eren groans, scratching at his stomach. “I just woke up.”

“It’s like one thirty,” Mikasa says. “You _only_ just woke up?”

Eren grunts in reply and fishes through the fridge for some orange juice before clambering for a glass in one of the top cabinets. “I was up until five with Reiner playing _League_.”

Mikasa raises an eyebrow. “You’re still playing _League of Legends_? What kind of biker rebel are you?”

Eren shoots a menacing glare over his shoulder at Mikasa before pouring out the radioactive yellow drink and gulping it down in one swift motion. “Biker rebel, are we in the eighties still?”

“You might as well be,” his sister scoffs. “Anyway, Mum and Dad are out for the day so it’s just us two.”

“Awesome,” Eren replies unenthusiastically. “I might just go back to bed. What are you up?”

Mikasa turns back to her laptop, opens it up, and pushes her glasses back up her nose. “I’m looking over my classes for next year and then I’m going to apply for a few jobs.” She nods at the stack of plain sheets of paper and envelopes by her laptop.

“Just get a job at the diner; they’re just giving positions away.”

Mikasa grimaces. “I’d rather die, honestly. It’s bad enough that you stink when you come home but I can’t handle that on me. I’m thinking of that new vintage clothes shop that opened downtown.”

“ _Sweet_. Anyway, I’m gonna go back to bed.” Eren makes his way out of the kitchen with a short, lazy wave.

“Why don’t you go and annoy Armin?”

“He’s not here; he’s gone away for the weekend. Ymir told us yesterday.”

“Oh, bummer for you, huh?” Mikasa looked up from her laptop again.

Eren stares at his sister quizzically. He squints his eyes and purses his lips, trying suss exactly what she meant by that.

“Bummer that one of your close friends isn’t around for you talk to.”

“Like his grandpa would let me get anywhere near him.” Eren looks at his bare feet and twiddles his toes against the linoleum floor before glance back up. “Say, what exactly do you wear at church?”

Mikasa thanks all the Gods that she wasn’t taking a drink at this point because her laptop would’ve been ruined. “Why are you asking me that?”

Eren shrugs. “I figured you might know.”

“I know nothing!” Mikasa chokes on her breath. “Why are you interested in church, I thought you were a ‘high level’ atheist?”

“I am,” Eren mutters. He takes a second to recollect his thoughts and pushes himself away from the doorframe. “But, Armin’s not.”

Mikasa watches after her little brother curiously before a knowing grin sweeps over her pretty, angled features. _He couldn’t be any more obvious_.

* * *

The following Monday brings rain and Armin back into Eren’s life. The sound of a car door slamming wakes Eren from his deep slumber and in a sleepy, almost zombie-like, haze; he staggers to his window and pulls his curtains aside.

All at once, every jolt of energy collides in his mind when he sees Armin step out of the taxi, looking a little tired and defeated, but relieved to be home nonetheless.

The blond stretches as he exits the cab before helping his grandfather with getting small suitcases out of the boot of the car. His grandpa pays the taxi driver with a few old bills and the green cab drives away almost immediately, leaving the Arlert’s in a cloud of dusty grey smoke.

Eren watches with a dreamy smile, leaning against the windowsill, as Armin takes both suitcases and pulls them into the house with little complaint. His blond hair is like a glimpse of sunshine in the blue-grey of the Monday morning. His blue eyes glance upwards for only a second and when they catch Eren’s stony ones, a small smile folds over his lips. Then, surprising Eren, a row of white teeth come out and bite his lower lip as he glances downwards shyly before entering his home and away from Eren’s view.

Grey eyes trail over the pallid grey driveway of the Arlert household before he crosses fire with Armin’s grandpa, squaring him up with an intense stare of his own. Abashed, Eren ducks away from the window and immediately retreats to bed. It feels like a terrible game of Snakes and Ladders, with every step he gets closer to Armin, his grandfather puts up another bigger, stronger wall and Eren ultimately is forced to take several steps back. With such a wide gap, that Kirstein guy (Eren grips at his bedsheets at the mere thought of him) could just step in and sweep Armin away with ease.

* * *

They don’t fully come face to face until the afternoon when the rain ceases and the ground is a glistening pool in the harsh sunlight. Eren’s working on his bike when Armin and his grandfather leave their house. They say goodbyes and Armin’s grandfather pats his shoulder before shooting a toxic stare at Eren’s oblivious body from behind the motorbike, and then they go their separate ways.

 With his grandfather out of view after a few moments, Armin hops over the fence to Eren’s garden.

“What are you up to?”

“Huh?” Eren immediately looks up, banging his head against one of the handlebars. “Ow, God damn it!” He curses, scratching at his head.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“A good Catholic boy like you shouldn’t say God’s name like that,” Eren teases, playfully, and Armin smiles gently.

“A good Catholic boy shouldn’t go against his grandfather’s wishes either, but here I am.”

Eren grabs an old rag from his toolbox and wipes his greasy hands. “Why exactly are you being so rebellious?” He smirks at Armin who flushes under his gaze.

“I dunno, I guess I missed seeing you whilst I was away.”

Eren’s a little surprise, his lips parting ever so slightly as his breath hitches in his throat. He hadn’t expected Armin to be so forward. “R-really?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to be around people my own age, y’know? The only people I spoke to where my grandpa, my bitch of an aunt, and my parents’ graves. I got lonely.”

Eren frowns. “That sounds horrible.”

Armin nibbles at his lower lip again. “Yeah well… That’s my life - surrounded by old or dead people.” He sighs heavily. “We actually had a big argument over the weekend.”

“Oh? What about?”

“Well,” Armin begins, walking up to the front door of Eren’s house and leaning against the brickwork. “My grandpa wants me to become a pastor, like him.”

“Oh, that sounds good.”

Armin shakes his head. “No chance. I’m… not interested in the idea. He pretty much blew up at me, telling me it was in my blood to be a servant of God or whatever. I’m only sixteen, why do I have to decide this now?”

“Well, I mean, at my school, before the summer, they were saying how we would have to decide what our career goals would be before we graduate,” Eren confesses. “It’s how adults are.”

“It’s a big bore,” Armin says and he kicks at some stray gravel on the path.  “Have you decided on anything?”

“I might be a musician,” Eren says, seriously. Armin stares at him for a second, unsure if he was being fooled before Eren burst out laughing. “Like my Dad would let me be a musician. He wants me to go into medicine, he says I’m plenty smart enough if I put in effort and yeah, I agree, but medicine is so boring.”

“You save people’s lives.”

“He’s a gynaecologist.”

“Doesn’t that interest you?” Armin jokes.

Eren pulls a face. “I’m not interested in that kind of thing…”

“Women or…”

“Women.”

“Ah.”

“Maybe that’s a good reason to go into it though,” Eren muses. “You know what I really want to do?”

“No, tell me,” Armin says, still reeling from the information Eren had just blurted out moments earlier. He felt lightheaded, completely high. Eren wasn’t interested in women? Did Eren just admit he’s gay?

“I want to open a club.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Yeah, but, you need money to open a club,” Eren says. “I might just go into acting.”

“You’re fishing for a lot of contemporary things,” Armin says, scratching at his blond hair. Agitated, loose tresses fall from his ponytail, tickling at his jaw.

“I hate being told what to do.”

“Don’t we all?”

“Do you wanna come in? We can play some video games,” Eren then says, changing the subject entirely and Armin’s thrown off completely.

“I can’t,” he says. “I have to go the library… I want to pick up some new books.” He motions at the messenger bag resting on his shoulder. “And return some older ones.”

“I can give you lift. Have you ever been on a motorbike before?”

“No,” Armin admits and before he can turn Eren’s invitation down, a helmet is thrown into his arms and Eren’s kicking at the ignition. With shaky legs, Armin climbs on, behind Eren, and clings onto his cotton t-shirt. _He smells so good_ , Armin thinks. _I’ve never been this close to him._

When the motorbike chokes and roars to life, Armin feels the excitement run through his veins, electrifying his muscles as the vibrations tickle at his thighs. He clings a little tighter to Eren and feels the heat rise over his face.

“I’m gonna go now,” Eren says as a warning and it’s lost in the mechanics of the motorbike. With a jolt the motorbike moves and Armin’s all but screaming in absolute fear. He pulls at Eren’s t-shirt, threatening to rip it, as Eren swerves around corners and kicks up speed on long stretches of road. Armin can feel the warm summer breeze brush over his skin leaving goose bumps of excitement over his arms and legs.

The library was a mile away from their neighbourhood, a good half an hour walk for Armin, but a mere ten minutes on Eren’s motorbike.

The bike gurgles as Eren puts it into neutral and helps Armin off the bike. The adrenaline long fading in Armin’s heart, he nearly collapses into Eren’s arm, breathing heavily.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Eren asks.

“My legs…”

“I know, right?” Eren laughs freely. “You get used to the adrenaline rush.”

“I’m not sure I will,” Armin admits, weakly. He pulls the helmet off of his head and hands it over to Eren.

“You were holding on pretty tightly, I was a bit worried you’d rip my t-shirt.”

“Yes, that would’ve been a nightmare,” Armin responds, trying to tone the sarcasm down. Eren laughs again.

“Anyway, it was good to see you again, Armin.”

“Yeah, it feels like it’s been forever.”

Eren gives Armin that damn lopsided grin and Armin’s legs feel weak all over again, threatening to buckle beneath him. “Are you on shift tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Awesome, so am I. I’ll see you then.” Eren stands at his motorbike for a moment, staring at its paint job. Armin quickly begins to make his way towards the library before Eren’s voice stops him again. “Um, Armin, about what I told you earlier.”

“About you wanting to open a club?”

“No-“

“Being an actor?”

“No…” Eren smiles gently. “I mean about… me telling you I’m not interested in women.”

“Oh, that,” Armin forces a smile on his face. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Eren’s smile widens. “Thank God. I haven’t even told my friends yet.”

“So, I’m the first?”

Eren rubs at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I suppose so. I just figured since you and Jean-”

_Oh, my God, don’t bring that up now, please. We were having a moment._

“-You would understand.”

“I do,” Armin says. “Take care, Eren.”

“Yeah, you too, Armin.” Eren flips down his visor and climbs back onto his motorbike. Armin watches, before entering the library, as his motorbike drives off in a cloud of purple smoke.

Finding out that Eren wasn’t interesting in women should’ve been the highlight of Armin’s day, but for some reason he began to panic. _Thinking_ that Eren was straight and would thus never be interested in him was different from actually _knowing_. It would hurt a lot more knowing now that Eren was gay and that Armin wasn’t his type, at all, than it would to see Eren date and fall in love with a girl.

A bitter feeling rests at the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t concentrate on any of the books he skimmed through to see if they were worth taking out. It gnaws at his heart, and he chews on his lips, anxiously.

 _God_ , Armin begins to pray, _please, for all I am, just make sure this doesn’t hurt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've given up on the whole "are you there god?" thing... it was a good motif until I realised i couldn't use it all the time... ;A;
> 
> Oh hey! I'm back! Bet y'all missed me... probably not, that's fine. I've been focusing on the prince and the thief for the most part, mainly because it takes a lot of energy to write and i just have such great plans for that story.  
> However, I needed a break from it so I decided to quickly whip up this small chapter. I haven't really grammar checked it so I'm sorry if it's like really bad. I'll probably fix it tomorrow.
> 
> I've also been listening to YoI's soundtrack again, I'm not that big on the show but the soundtrack is just really fun to listen to, so this chapter is dedicated to history maker and you only live once.


	6. I Don't Know if I Need You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren's best friends turn up at the diner, effectively scaring Armin and Ymir, and Eren butts heads with Jean over Armin.

“Whoa! Watch out!” Eren says as he passes Armin holding a large tray full of deep fried food. On instinct, his free hand reaches out to hold the small of the blond’s back to keep in place as he waltzes by.

Armin looks up with a gentle smile on his face and a flustered thank you on his lips before spinning on his heel and making his way to another table. He feels Eren’s keen eyes on his back and he wonders if he’s imagining it until he catches Ymir’s interested gaze.

She’s sitting near the cash register watching over the two waiters with eagle-eyed precision. A thick eyebrow quirks curiously and Armin mirrors her action with a quizzical glance of his own. Her brown eyes then suddenly shift to Eren, sorting out the orders for the table he’d been waiting on, before returning back to Armin and her thin lips quiver a knowing smile.

Armin shakes his head, almost telling her to let it go in silent communication, before handing over table five’s orders for the lunch rush. He thanks God that Jean isn’t here today and that it’s just him and Eren, minus his nosy boss, and that he can sit and admire Eren’s physique and that damn grin from afar as he pretends to wait for any orders.

Eren’s muscles flex under his white shirt as he leans over to hand a girl her salad. She takes it with a cheery giggle that Eren brushes off and Armin feels his cheeks heat up. He’s surprised he hasn’t noticed how little Eren cared for some of the female customer’s advancements towards him until now.

“It’s busy, huh?” Ymir says, interrupting Armin’s thoughts with a broad smile.

“Y-yes…”

“Funny how you’re supposed to be working but instead you’re here ogling over Jaeger.”

“I’m not ogling,” Armin replies, indignantly.

“Right. I wasn’t born yesterday, Arlert. You have the hots for him.”

“ _N-no_.”

“Oh… Armin, come on. I’m a lot of things, but stupid definitely isn’t one of them.”

“Yeah, well, aren’t you supposed to be taking orders too?” Armin suddenly changes the subject, hoping it doesn’t come across too suspicious. Ymir quirks that same thick eyebrow but allows it to pass.

“I can if you want me to,” she says, standing up and snatching Armin’s notepad. “But, there’s a reason why my aunt made me assistant manager instead of part of the wait staff.”

 _Yes, there is definitely a reason_ , Armin concludes. Ymir is brutish and a little too honest. Her first time at the diner had nearly ended in a fight as one of the male customers had manhandled Christa in an unsightly fashion and ended up with a dead arm courtesy of Ymir. A lawsuit would’ve been dealt if Ymir’s aunt hadn’t offered the patron a free meal at the diner and a sincere apology.

Of course, this is all hear-say as Armin wasn’t part of the team at this point but both Christa and Ymir relayed the story perfectly the first time he heard it so he had no reason to doubt her. Plus, after being there a while, he’s seen first-hand how Ymir acts around Christa and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume it had happened in the first place.

An hour ticks by slowly with Eren and Armin rushed off their feet, but soon the diner ends up nearly empty and quiet, they take a seat at the bar for a drink of soda that Ymir pours up for them with a wordless offer of gratitude.

However, their break is short lived when the door jingles open and the two turn to face the large shadow that disrupts the sunlight pouring in.

“Oh, for the _love of_ -“ Eren bites his tongue.

At the door stands two young boys, one roughly about six foot and the other a few inches shorter. The taller one has tousled blond hair and beady blue eyes that scour over the diner with interest; whilst the shorter guy stands a little back behind him, his hair cropped close to his head with wide brown eyes that mirror the taller boy’s inquisitiveness.

Both of them wear the same leather jacket that Eren always wears with ripped jeans and thick second-hand Doc Martens. The blond has a neon green motorbike helmet tucked under his arm whilst the other holds his sky blue one between both hands.

“Ah, here he is!” The tall blond’s voice booms, as if on a surround-sound, and a few of the straggling patrons flinch in surprise. “Did you think you would get away from us that easily, Jaeger?”

“Should I call the police?” Armin whispers into Eren’s ears but the brunet shakes his head.

“It wasn’t like I was hiding,” Eren counters. “I was just hoping I didn’t have to see your ugly mugs until the autumn.”

The tall blond smirks at Eren and cracks his knuckles.

“Oi! Dumb and dumber! You’re gonna have to order if you want to threaten our waiters!” Ymir shouts as she cleans a glass.

The blond stares her down for a second before shrugging his shoulder and choosing the booth closest to the door. His shorter friend follows, sliding in opposite him.

“I’ve got this,” Eren says, climbing down from the barstool and wiping his mouth of any remaining soda. “They’re my best friends.”

 _Best friends?!_ Armin wants to squeak. _Oh, Grandpa, I should’ve listened to you all along!_

“Alright Reiner, what do you want?” Eren then asks, strolling up to the booth and lazily taking out his notepad.

Reiner, the tall blond, looks over the menu with one glance before shrugging. “What do you want Connie?”

Connie is hesitant a first, as always, before deciding on a cheeseburger which Reiner repeats as his own order. They also order two root beer floats.

“So, what’s the deal, Eren? Why did we have to ask Mikasa where you were?” Reiner then asks.

“Ah, things have been a little busy. I meant to text you both over the weekend so we could make plans.”

“Are you busy tomorrow? Connie managed to score us some tickets to see _The Wall_.”

“How’d you manage that?” Eren asks, turning to Connie.

The light haired boy leans back in his seat with a smug smile. “I called a radio show.”

“Yeah, he’s telling the truth,” Reiner confirms when Eren turns back to him in disbelief.

“I can’t believe radio still exists.”

“Do you want to go or not?” Connie then asks, almost as if he was waving those tickets under Eren’s nose, trying to tempt him.

Eren bites his lip. He’d love to go, _The Wall_ is one of his favourite bands but he had promised his dad he’d help in the garden. They recently had a tree cut down, and he and his father were going to get rid of it. “… Ask me tomorrow, I might be busy.”

“With your new friend?” Reiner then asks, leaning over to stare at Armin who had been doing his best not to make it obvious that he was watching them.

“He’s not a _new_ friend. He’s Armin, my neighbour.”

“Oh! _Armin Arlert_!”

On mention of his name, the blond immediately turns around before flinching under Reiner’s powerful gaze and turning back to his soda. Ymir clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth in distaste.

“Yeah, keep your voice down, you giant. I need to get your order to the chef, I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, don’t worry about us,” Reiner jeers. “We’ve been waiting to see you all summer; a few more minutes won’t make a difference.” He slouches in the booth seat with an arrogant grin plastered on his face.

“Eren, I don’t usually get involved in my co-worker’s personal lives,” Ymir whispers as Eren makes his way over, his friends’ orders in hand. “But, I think you’ve gotten into the wrong crowd.”

Eren looks back over his shoulder at Reiner and Connie, the former having taken a silver spoon and now attempting to balance it on his nose whilst the latter did his best to hold in his laughter. “No, you just don’t know them like I do.”

Ymir tries to argue again but Eren doesn’t hear any more of it. He gives her a stare that ends the conversation at its roots and Ymir saunters back over to Armin.

“You can talk some sense into him,” Ymir says. “He’ll listen to you.”

“What makes you think he’ll listen to me?” Armin chokes out.

“Hmm, call it women’s intuition.”

Armin glances over at Eren as he returns to his friends’ table and sincerely doubts he can talk Eren out of anything, no matter how close they are.

* * *

The diner closes early because Ymir decides so and she kicks both Eren and Armin out half an hour early so she can clean up and report back to her aunt. The two stands outside the diner, just talking aimlessly. Eren leans up against the dinner wall, hand in pocket fidgeting with a half empty box of cigarettes, whilst Armin stands in front of his arms folded over his chest.

“Your friends,” Armin says, referring back to Reiner and Connie’s intimidating entrance. “They’re interesting.”

Eren scoffs and shakes his heads. “You think they’re scary, don’t you?”

“A little,” Armin admits and he gives Eren a shaky smile.

“I did too, when I met Reiner a few years ago, but honestly the guy’s a freakin’ teddy bear in a quarterback’s body.”

Armin isn’t too convinced but he doesn’t press the need any further. Despite what Ymir had said, there was no reason for him to get involved. Eren clearly cared about his friends from the way he carried a wistful smile on his face whilst speaking about them.

A familiar choked-up engine rattles in the air and Jean’s car rolls up to the diner. “Hey, Armin,” he calls out the window as he pulls up alongside where the two were standing. “Jaeger.”

“Kirstein,” Eren returns the cold greeting with a frosty glare.

“Jean, what are you doing here? It’s your day off,” Armin asks, walking up to the car.

“I wanted to see if you wanted a ride home… or a ride back to my place?” Jean wears a wry smile that causes knots to tense in Eren’s stomach. He kicks away a stray stone from the gravelled parking lot and looks away, angrily.

Armin doesn’t respond immediately and Eren wishes that he would. Eren wishes he would just get in the car and leave so he could sit and stew in raw jealousy back at his own home, whilst trying not to think of the kind of shit they’ll get up to in secret. He balls up his fists and kicks himself away from the wall of the diner. Without much thought, Eren strolls up to the car and grabs a hold of Armin’s wrist gently. Jean’s eyes dart from Armin’s face to Eren’s grip on his wrist and then onto Eren.

“Actually, I was just about to offer him a lift home on my bike so you can just chug on home, Kirstein.”

“Oh, get real, Jaeger. I know for a fact that you wouldn’t be so stupid to do that considering that Armin’s granddad thinks you’re a menace.”

Eren growls bitterly in his throat, pushing for Jean to test him a little more.

“Jean’s right,” Armin then says. “My grandfather would go ballistic if he saw you giving me a ride home. It’s safer, for the both of us, if I go with Jean.”

Eren steps away, his grip on Armin’s wrist relenting as he balls it back into a fist by his side. “Alright, fine, just go then.”

“Eren-“

“Just go if that’s what you want,” he spits out and turns away from Armin.

The blond stares at him for a long second, frowning, before walking around Jean’s piece of junk and climbing into the passenger seat. The car drives off, rattling into the evening sky and Eren skulks over to his motorbike.

“Damn it!” He curses, kicking up more gravel in his outburst. He had been the one who pushed Armin to go with Jean so why the hell was his chest aching and his stomach spinning. He feels like he’s going to vomit but all that comes up were curse words and bitter feelings. “What the hell is wrong with me?” He asks out loud as he looks up to the darkening sky above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I live for drama? Yes, yes I do!
> 
> Today's title is brought to you by Savage Garden because why not.
> 
> I also have this entire story planned out so hopefully updates will be a little more frequent than they have been.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for the comments and kudos so far, you guys are really awesome and you really inspire me to keep writing so, again, thank you so much! <3


	7. Cigarette Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren and Grisha have a full blown argument about Eren's future, Jean and Armin discuss the future of their "relationship", and Eren and Reiner have a heart-to-heart.

When Eren returns home, the unbearable smell of burger grease is replaced with the comfort of home-cooked food. His father, stood in the kitchen wearing a polo shirt and old grey slacks, hovered over a large pot of pasta bubbling in tomato sauce.

“You’re home early,” Eren comments, as he enters the kitchen, taking in a deep inhale of his father’s secret recipe. In one swift motion he slugs his leather jacket off and throws his motorbike helmet onto an empty chair.

“I had a short shift today. How was work?” Grisha asks, moving away from the pot and leaning up against one of the counters, folding his arms over his chest.

“It was something. Reiner and Connie came by. Jerks.”

Grisha chuckles. “Mikasa mentioned you might be a bit sour.”

“I love them,” Eren explains. “I do, but they’re jerks.”

“You’ll be seeing them a lot more when school starts up again,” Grisha says and Eren shivers overdramatically. “You better work harder this year if you want to get into Trost’s Medical Academy.”

Eren pauses for a moment and then begins to fiddle with the hem of his jacket’s sleeve. “I… I don’t think I want to go to medical school anymore, Dad.”

Grisha’s cheery disposition drops and he frowns. “What do you mean you don’t want to go to medical school anymore? What else are you going to do?”

“ _Anything_ else,” Eren replies. “There’s more to life than being a doctor, Dad. I’m sorry Grandad forced you to go medical school and you’re miserable, but I can’t want that for myself. I want something more.”

“And what exactly is something more? You need to use the opportunities given to you. I can help you get into medical school, I can help you become a full-fledged doctor, but everything else will have you on your own. Is that what you really want?”

“Dad, I don’t want to ride on your tailcoats anymore.”

Grisha’s face began to turn a shade of violent red and he slammed the spoon he’d been stirring the pasta with onto the counter. The wooden handle splits under his weight and violation and Eren watches on in horror. He’s never seen his dad this angry before and an overwhelming fear begins to build in his stomach.

“All this work,” he says, quietly at first. “All this work I have done, to provide for you! To give you a home and a _future_! And this… this is how you repay me?” Eren doesn’t reply and stares at his feet. He notices a spot marring his clean black Doc Martens and makes a note to clean that later, when he doesn’t feel like crying. “Eren Adalwin Jaeger, look at me when I’m talking to you. How old are you boy? 6 or 16?”

“16.”

“Damn well act like it then. Don’t you dare start crying,” Grisha begins to shout and Eren wishes the floor would swallow him whole. At that moment, the front door opens and Carla bounds in. “Carla, get in here!”

Eren’s mother immediately enters the kitchen, not even having time to remove her heels. “What the hell is going on in here?” Carla asks. “I can hear you yelling from outside the house, Grisha!”

“Eren, explain to your mother why I’m so angry.”

Carla turns to her son, her hardened expression softening when she sees that Eren is close to tears, swallowing thickly as he begins to open his mouth.

“I don’t want to go to medical school,” he whispers.

Carla blinks, utterly perturbed. “Wait… that’s it? I thought you’d been fired or stolen something. If you don’t want to go to medical school then don’t, Eren.”

“Carla, how can you agree with that?” Grisha pleads. “How can you let your son become a failure? You know he’s not good for anything else.”

“Grisha, you need to calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when that boy decides that his future isn’t something to just waste! What is it you want to do, Eren?”

“I want to go to the art school,” Eren replies, sheepishly. Under his dad’s intense gaze he feels about two inches tall despite towering over him in these boots.

“Art school? _Art_ school!?”

“Grisha…” Carla warns.

“You want to go to art school and do what? Paint pretty pictures and smoke pot? Is that it? You want to be like Mikasa, is that it?”

“Grisha-“

“No, Carla, I won’t have it! Eren, no son of mine is going to a stupid art school.”

“Then, I guess I won’t be your son anymore!” Eren spits back. “I’m no failure, Dad. The only failure I can see is the one burning a perfectly good dinner.”

Grisha and Carla immediately turn to the stove, clouds of black smoke billow around the pot, and within an instant the fire alarm is set off. Under the screeching, Eren ducks out of the house and back into the garage to grab his motorbike. Aware he’s unprotected but unwilling to care; he sits and revs his engine before steering off.

A run down Cadillac parks up alongside his house and he zooms by and in a split second he makes eye contact with a confused Armin sitting in Jean’s passenger seat. It’s the icing on the world’s shittiest cake and Eren speeds up until he’s a mile, two miles, three miles away from home.

And then he calls Reiner.

* * *

“Was that Jaeger?” Jean asks as he pulls up near to Armin’s house.

“I think so. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. I hope he’ll be okay.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s got a hard head,” Jean jokes and Armin cracks a slight smile. His hand hovers over the door handle and he’s ready to leave when Jean shifts in his seat and stares at Armin.

“Are you okay, Jean?” Armin looks back at him with wide blue eyes and Jean clears his throat. He looks embarrassed, avoiding direct eye contact and a wry smile on his face.

“I… I just want to ask you something. How… far are you comfortable with going?”

“What do you mean?”

Jean scratches at his upper arm. “I mean… Like, having sex.”

It’s Armin’s turn to feel embarrassed and he immediately looks away from Jean. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“I figured. I don’t want to pry but you’ve been really out of it since Jaeger started working with us. Is there something going on between you two or…?”

“No! Nothing! We’re just friends.”

“But you want to be more?”

Armin glances out of the window and sighs. He can see the apple tree from here, shadowed under the setting sun. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

Jean laughs. “You’re a bad liar but I said I don’t want to pry so I won’t. But, just think about my offer, if you want that barrier gone, at least.”

Armin forces a smile so that Jean won’t feel so uncomfortable. “I’ll think about it.” And he gets out of the car, waving a final goodbye to Jean who drives up in a clutter of mechanics and exhaust fumes.

Armin really does think about it, for all of 3 seconds, before deciding that he’s better of waiting. He’d rather wait forever than just go through a whim he could end up regretting. He thinks of Eren and wonders if he would’ve done the same.

* * *

The sun begins to set over Shiganshina and Eren and Reiner are sitting in an abandoned playground. Smouldering butts cluttering the asphalt around them as they smoke through a packet of cigarettes Reiner’s lifted from his stepdad.

They’d been sitting in silence for the most part of fifteen minutes after Eren had vented his home issues to his best friend. Reiner had offered the simplest form of comfort in his own unique way: “That’s fucking rough, buddy.”

And, as quickly as the winds change, their conversation shifts and Reiner looks at Eren earnestly.

“If I tell you something, you’ll promise not to make fun of me,” Reiner says. Eren stares back at his friend.

“Dude, what’s wrong? You look pale as fuck.”

“Eren, you’re the first person I’m telling this to and I trust you completely…”

“Reiner… you’re scaring me.”

The blond takes a long drag on his cigarette before exhaling a plume of heather-grey smoke. “I’m gay.”

Eren nearly falls from the bench he’s been occupying since he arrived. “That’s it? Yeesh, you had me scared.”

“You’re not bothered?”

“Why would I be, Reiner?”

Reiner shrugs and takes another smoke. “I’m dating Connie.”

Eren chokes on his own spit this time. He had expected Reiner to come out to him at some point, call it gay intuition, but this was something Eren could not have seen coming in a long mile. “You’re _what_?”

“Please don’t make this any awkward than it already is.”

“Connie’s gay?” Eren whispers. “I never saw that coming.” He then looks up at Reiner. “I won’t say a word. I’m happy for you.”

Reiner smiles, waves of relief wash over him as he throws his finished cigarette to the ground and stamps it out with his pair of second-hand combat boots.

“Honestly, Reiner, I’m glad you said that…”

“Why’s that?”

Eren stares at the ground, fiddling with his still-lit cigarette before looking up at his friend through long lashes and greasy brunet hair. “I’m gay, too.”

Reiner laughs. “What a coincidence!”

Eren smirks before throwing his head back with Reiner and laughing freely. It feels good, like a weight constricting his chest has been removed. He feels light, airy, as if he could fly.

“So that cute blond you were hanging with at the diner…” Reiner prompts.

“Oh, Armin?”

“Armin, that’s it.”

“Don’t act like you’ve forgotten his name already,” Eren chides, nudging Reiner.

“It’s not that I’ve forgotten; you just have the dopiest smile on his face every time you say his name.”

Eren panics and his hand flies to his face. “No, I don’t!” Comes his muffled argument.

Reiner chuckles. “Dude, it’s okay, I don’t judge, remember?”

“I don’t like Armin.”

“Sure, you don’t.” Reiner isn’t convinced.

“I don’t!”

“Right, because what’s there to like?” Reiner begins to list of things that Eren had told him in confidence last year. “He has nice blue eyes, he has a pretty smile, he’s blond and short, but not too short you know? Oh! And he’s so warm, like physically and emotionally-“

“Alright! Alright!” Eren cries out, throwing his cigarette to the ground. “I get it.”

“You have the biggest crush on him, dude.”

“Maybe I do,” Eren then admits.

“So, why act like you don’t?”

Eren shrugs. “It’s easier that way.” He looks up and watches as a young skylark flitters across the marshmallow coloured sky before nesting in a tree.

Reiner is tight-lipped.

“His grandfather would never allow it…” He takes in a deep breath. “I feel something for him… I can’t tell if it’s romantic or just some sense of protection.”

Reiner remains silent, listening intently.

 “I don’t know if Armin would want to date me anyway. He’s completely out of my league and I’m probably not even his type,” Eren continues, running a hand through his hair. He quickly makes a note to wash it tonight.

“I felt the same about Connie,” Reiner confesses. “But, it was easier to just confess and be turned down than spend the rest of my life regretting and milling over if I was right or not.”

“So, you’re suggesting I say something to Armin?”

“Duh.”

Eren bites his lower lip and Reiner rubs his eyes, allergies getting the best of him.

“You have to think about how you feel when you look at him,” Reiner then says. “Don’t do it right away, especially since you seem so confused, but, do it when you feel it’s right.”

Eren’s about to thank Reiner for his advice when his phone begins to ring. “It’s my mum,” he says after checking. “I have to answer this.”

“I’ll be over here, smoking,” Reiner says as Eren gets up from the bench and wanders over to another corner of the playground.

“Hey, Mum, what’s wrong?”

“Eren, come home, please. Your father wants to apologise for his outburst earlier.”

Eren looks over to Reiner who is trying his best not to appear interested in the conversation.

“Alright, I’ll be home in half an hour.”

“We’ve ordered pizza since your father burnt dinner.”

Eren smiles. “That sounds good. See you in a bit.” He hangs up and pockets his phone. “I gotta go.”

“Coulda guessed.” Reiner stands up from the bench and pulls Eren in for a hug. “You need me, you call me, got it?”

“Got it!” Eren salutes his quarterback friend before hopping on his motorbike and tearing out of the playground, leaving only clouds of smoke in his wake.

He thinks over Reiner’s advice and decides he’s right. Armin should at least be able to make the decision for him rather than have Eren assuming every little thing about him. He’s going to do it, he surmises. He’s going to tell Armin how he feels. 


End file.
